In Memorium: l. tarin chaplin
It is with profound sadness that we announce the death of our beloved flame-haired beauty, our mama, l. tarin chaplin who died of cancer this past Monday, May 25, 2009. Born in 1941 in Brooklyn, NY where her father ran a gas station, tarin began dancing at the age of three. Seven years later her family relocated to Miami, Florida, where they operated The Silva, a commercial fishing boat. Head majorette at Miami High, upon graduation, tarin married Anton S. Chaplin and started a family of her own in State College, PA, from whence she graduated summa cum laude with a BA in English and a minor in dance. After completing a master’s in dance at UCLA, tarin and her youngest son moved to Vermont in 1976, eventually settling in her little red schoolhouse in the town of East Montpelier.
A life-long “eco-choreographer,” activist, writer and dancer, tarin sought to connect people to the earth, the elements, and the sentient and non-sentient beings that share this universe with us in all their magnificent manifestations. Embodying this perspective, her art, which was performed on both proscenium stages and in site-specific venues, was known for its piercing imagery and rich symbolism. This past winter, for example, she brought her community the twelfth annual Ice on Fire, an outdoor event that tarin conceived and directed in which she draws on storytelling and myth to celebrate the ferocious beauty of deep winter. Likewise, many remember the haunting tableaus of Women’s Rites, a touring installation stage and gallery piece exploring the iconography of domesticity that had a memorable performance at Montpelier’s Kellogg-Hubbard Library almost thirty years ago. Locally, she enriched circles too numerous to name, notably choreographing Pat Pritchett’s version of Fiddler on the Roof at the Old Meeting House, participating in the rituals of the Remembrance Community and the explorations of the Authentic Movement group, as well as maintaining a longstanding collaboration with director Marianne Lust of Lincoln, VT, with whom she worked on Marianne’s magical Nightfires and Marrowbone.
The author of countless articles and books, including a seminal text in her field, The Intimate Act of Choreography (9 printings, 3 translations, co-authored with the late Lynne Anne Blom), tarin recently wrote and edited for The Bridge and other publications, and functioned as dance-theatre critic for The Times Argus. While rooted in Vermont, tarin taught and created internationally, holding university positions in London, Jerusalem, and Vancouver, and nationally, at Penn State, the University of Montana, Goddard, Middlebury College (where she founded the dance major), and at SUNY Purchase (where she taught choreography at the Conservatory of Dance), among others. The recipient of prestigious fellowships from such places as the National Endowment for the Arts, the Asian Cultural Council, American-Israeli Foundation and Vermont Arts Council, tarin founded the International Performance Project (bringing performing and visual artists together from around the world), served for almost ten years as Artistic Associate and Director of Choreography for the Carlisle Project, directed the Irish National Youth Dance Company, and, most recently, was the keynote speaker at the New Zealand National Dance Festival. A poet, nature writer, and storyteller, her experiences living and working worldwide (in places as far-flung as the Alaskan tundra, Hong Kong, Jamaica, Eastern Europe and the Outer Hebrides) inspired her commitment to honoring earth’s breadth and spirit. Ongoing graduate studies in environmental ethics, deep ecology, and ritual augmented her avid Qigong, Butoh and wilderness practices.
Tarin’s emphasis on community-based celebrations of the natural and supernatural worlds have opened hearts and given wing to new perceptions of our interconnectedness. Her bright spirit burns on in the dear ones she leaves behind, including her youngest son, environmentalist, builder, mechanic and farmer Daniel Chaplin (father to granddaughter Flora-Sae Kim Chessman Chaplin, both of Worcester, VT); her daughter, Tamara Chaplin, a European historian at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign; her eldest son, builder and former professional skier and tennis coach, Scott Chaplin of Queensland, Australia (father to grandsons Anders Royale and Palmer Gayle Chaplin of Lake Tahoe, CA); her niece, Neesa Warlen, of Plantation, Florida; and a vast community of remarkable friends, students and colleagues. Wise, irreverent and passionate, tarin chaplin demanded much, and gave more. We are grateful for the powerful love she lavished so generously and for the myriad ways in which she shaped our lives. She will be deeply missed.
Tarin requested that donations in her name be sent to support two scholarships: the first, The l. tarin chaplin Choreographic Award, will be presented to a young choreographer enrolled for 2009-2010 at the Conservatory of Dance at Purchase College, SUNY (where tarin culminated her academic career); the second will support the study of Yiddish (a language dear to tarin’s heart). Checks for the choreography award should be sent to Tamara Chaplin, 1550 Centre Road, Montpelier, VT, 05602, by July 15. Contributions in honor of the Memorial tarin chaplin Yiddish Studies Fund can be sent to Beth Jacob Synagogue, POB 1033, Montpelier, VT 05602.
5/26/2009 - A reflection by Tomasen Weinbaum a 21-year old friend of tarin's who sat with her for much of her last few days.
I do not know anymore how many days I spent by her deathbed. Looking back I see that its been not much more than two weeks since I arrived back in Vermont, yet those weeks have been so full, so timeless, that it could have been only yesterday and it could have been months.
In looking at tarin’s face, it seems as though time sped up. Less than six months ago she was in perfect health, lively, long red hair like a halo around her. Even when I arrived here, she was able to walk on her own, slowly, and spoke with almost as much vinegar as I remembered. As I sat with her, I was aware of the tone of her skin, her state of alertness, the lengthening time between breaths, the smell of her breath and body, her slowly declining strength. She transformed daily, moment to moment.
There has been so much love around her. So much grief, but so much joy, as well.
A few nights ago Tam and I sat in the kitchen, drinking wine and sharing stories of love, of loss, of mothers and daughters, of travels, of memories.
The next night we stayed by her side all through the night. Tam read from tarin’s journal as I held her hand, touched her face. In the early morning, tarin awoke for the first time in days and opened her eyes, tears trickling down her face as she saw us. We held her, telling her of our love, telling her that it was okay to go now. She slowly drifted back into sleep, and I nestled by her side into the morning.
Sunday I said to Tam, I want to dance for tarin, and I want to be wearing her clothing so that she can be dancing with me. She agreed that tarin would approve, and two friends and I drove the two hours down to Brattleboro for the Dawn Dance, a contra dance that began at 8 pm and went on until 7 the Monday. And I danced, and I prayed, and felt the immense joy of the night, and remembered tarin dancing with me there…
And around 4:30 in the morning I walked outside and lay on the grass, exhausted, my feet throbbing and body melting into the earth. I gazed up at the lightening sky, watching the final stars disappear, and I sang for her. And when I’d rested long enough, I returned to the dance.
When I got into the car the return home, I called Tam. “How was the dance?” she asked. “It was incredible,” I told her. “I danced all night.” “Well, you danced her right out!”
tarin had passed in that moment while I lay on the grass, my heart remembering her. She passed peacefully, and even in her death she is beautiful, her face relaxed, a small smile on her lips.
The day on which she died was the new moon.
How fitting, that she should give birth to a new cycle with her last breaths.
How perfect!
Early this morning we went out to her son Daniels’ farm. Tam read the prayer that tarin said every morning, calling in the directions and giving thanks for that which is and that which has been. We carried her coffin to the place she had specified – up a steep, narrow trail along the river, overlooking the waterfall, sometimes singing, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying, and lowered her back into the arms of the Earth.
She was/is a beautiful being, full of fire and aliveness, a dancer and a lover of earth and Spirit. As I walked on the land this morning, I saw her everywhere: speaking along with Tam as she called in the directions; in the trees, tears on her face and longing/love/gratitude in her eyes, as we listened to Hebrew prayers and lowered her body into the ground; on the far bank of the river, watching us return to the farm before turning and walking into the field beyond.
So much love and blessings to her on her journey, and may we meet again, in this world or the next.
This product was added to our catalog on Tuesday 16 June, 2009.
